


Happy to Be

by TrinityEverett



Series: What Happens in AC [3]
Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinityEverett/pseuds/TrinityEverett
Summary: "Sometimes it's still hard to believe that she has him, has this. A husband, a house he calls theirs, even a dog. Even a freaking dog." - Caskett, A What Happens in AC story.





	Happy to Be

_Although this was originally intended to be a short photo ficlet, it quickly became a much longer one shot. You can find the photo that inspired me at the end of the fic on my tumblr, or as the display pic for the story._

_This takes place in the What Happens in AC-verse, just a few months after the first story leaves off._ _shadoweddawn_ _, this is for you. <3_

**Happy to Be**

* * *

"Is he okay back there?"

Deep blue eyes leave the road, looking first at her and then glancing in the rearview mirror. There's nowhere for them to go if there's a problem – they're stuck in this lane thanks to a huge refrigerator truck on one side and a line of entirely too-aggressive cabs on the other side – but still she has to check.

"He's okay, Kate," Castle murmurs, letting his hand drop from the steering wheel to touch her thigh. He gives her leg a squeeze, brushing his fingers over the fabric of her jeans, but it's meant to comfort her instead of tease. "Take a look and see for yourself."

Her head shakes against the sedan's high headrest. "If I look back, it'll just get him going again. The last thing we need is for him to get crazy in traffic like this."

Her husband hums, slipping his hand over her knee. "That's true. He is a mommy's boy. A little attention goes a long way."

She sighs. "Castle."

"Well it's true. He is. I've tried to deny it, but I think our son likes you more than he likes me."

"He's not – " she cuts herself off, refusing to rise to the bait. They've been having this conversation for weeks and each time they get nowhere. Better to just leave it be.

"Don't you, Royal?" he coos. "You like Mommy more than you like me. It's okay, I'm not offended anymore. I mean, I know _I_ was the one to suggest we bring you home with us when Mommy was originally opposed, but…"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Yes, great guilt-tripper, we see your point."

Her husband grins over at her, releasing her leg and flipping away from the useless traffic report. Leaving the city on a Friday at five-fifteen was a terrible idea; they don't need someone to tell them that over and over.

The road trip playlist they'd created together is far more entertaining anyway.

He must've added new music to it before they left, because she knows this song isn't on her phone. Wherever it came from, she likes it.

Royal seems to like it, too; his tail starts to thump against the back door, keeping pretty good time for a puppy.

Castle, on the other hand, ignores the beat in favor of performing his own interpretive dance. As always. It's amusing, though, so she'll keep him.

He knows it, too, if the sly grin he tosses her way is any indication.

"Come on, Beckett. You know you wanna dance, too."

"Mmm, maybe I just like watching you," she teases, twisting in her seat to face him, shielding her eyes. The sun may be setting behind the car, but the glass building on the corner is doing an admirable job of reflecting the dying rays.

Castle's shoulders wiggle in satisfaction. "Well, I am pretty easy on the eyes. And here," he adds, moving the visor to cover the driver's side window. "How's that? Better?"

It's a sweet gesture, but mostly ineffective. "The sun's a little too low, but thanks. I'll just grab my sunglasses. Should've done that first anyway."

Warmth spreads through her at her husband's chuckle, even if he is laughing at her expense.

"Hey, I was a little busy wrangling your dog into the car to think about it."

"Yeah, yeah. Always mine when he's a handful, always yours when he's cuddly and sweet."

Her tongue pokes between her teeth. "You expected anything else?" she asks, swiping a hand into the foot well to grab her bag.

"Not particularly," he says, gesturing to the back. "I put your purse behind my seat to give you more leg room."

"Thanks, babe," she murmurs, stretching against her shoulder strap to press a kiss to the curve of his jaw. His afternoon stubble rasps against her lips, making her eager to leave the traffic in their dust and get to their home away from home.

Her lips slip lower, parting to steal a taste of his skin. It's not enough, but maybe it'll tide her over. Castle gasps, ragged and needy already, her name tumbling into the air between them.

"Don't start something we can't finish without a public indecency charge going on our records," he warns. "Because with the way traffic's moving, even a bike cop would catch us before we have the chance to make a break for it."

Maddening as it is to admit, he's right. Her head drops, forehead landing on his shoulder.

"Who made you the practical one?" Beckett grumbles. Her husband laughs in response, shaking his head.

Pulling away, she braces herself against his seat and digs for her purse.

Only to get a cold nose against her cheek and an affectionate slurp from a long tongue.

Royal.

Damn, she'd broken her own rule. She'd turned around and now their dog is standing again, stretching halfway into the front seat, his tail swishing madly against the upholstery. So much for being calm.

"Hi baby, I see you," she murmurs, ignoring her husband's muffled snicker at the pet name. Lifting a hand, she attempts to nudge Royal back into the seat. He returns anyway, licking her cheek once more, panting hot breath across her face. "Yes, I know you're back here all by yourself and it's super boring, but you need to sit. Can you sit for me?"

The dog's tail wags at her words, but he doesn't obey.

"Jeez, just six weeks with us and you've already lost all that obedience training."

This time, Castle can't disguise his amusement. Huffing, Kate turns to him.

"Something to add, Mr. Castle?"

He shakes his head, smoothing his lips into a line. The attempt to look neutral fails, but she'll give him a point for trying. "Not a thing, Mrs. Castle."

Yeah, right.

Before she can urge her partner to speak his mind, Royal pushes his way between the seats, resting his head on Castle's shoulder.

"Hey, buddy," Castle greets, lifting a hand to scratch the dog's ear. "You're gonna worry your mom if you keep doing that."

Her eyes roll. "I'm not –"

"Baby, Kate. Baby." He grins, easing the car through an intersection just as the light turns yellow.

Fine. Maybe she is. Maybe.

Her hand joins Rick's, finding Royal's tags underneath his fur. The vaccine tags are a bit tarnished with age, but the bone-shaped ID tag is shiny and new, boasting his new name – _Royal Castle_ – and her husband's cell phone number.

The dog shifts against the console, leaning into their combined affection. She forces herself to relax; they're crawling in traffic, hitting ten miles per hour at the most every few blocks. It's fine if he stays here.

That is until Castle has to hit the brakes hard, bringing the car to a stop just inches from a yellow cab's bumper. The momentum sends Royal sprawling forward, and she doesn't even stop to think; she grabs for him, finding purchase on whatever she can to keep him from hitting the dash.

"Shit," Castle hisses, gripping the wheel between sure hands. "That guy just came out of nowhere. Are you okay? Is he okay?"

Heart hammering in her chest, she can only nod and ease their dog back into the backseat. "Stay, Royal," she commands, clearing her throat. "I… is there a way to buckle him in?"

Her husband glances back, eyes scanning the seat. "Maybe use the belt in the center and loop it around him?"

"Yeah, okay. Let's try that."

She has to climb halfway into the backseat to maneuver the lap belt around her dog, but she succeeds. Hopefully the restraint won't be necessary, but better safe than sorry.

It's a testament to how rattled Castle is that he doesn't attempt to cop a feel while her ass is right there, and she can't help but close her fingers around his arm once she's back in her chair. His forearm jumps under her hand just before the muscle relaxes.

"We're okay," she promises. "Good reflexes, Castle."

"Thanks," he exhales, sinking in his seat. "He also cut off the guy next to us while you were in the back. Asshole."

"You get his medallion number?"

Her husband's head shakes. "Didn't even occur to me until he'd made the turn."

"That's okay," she says, pressing her lips to the curve of his shoulder. "Someone else probably will."

Castle nods, but there's no immediate joking comeback about the possibility of pissing off the wrong people and ending up one of Ryan and Esposito's weekend cases. He's still rattled.

So rattled, they sit in silence for almost five minutes.

"Jeez, Castle. If you're this worked up over traffic, what are you going to be like the day we bring human children home from the hospital?"

That shakes him out of his stupor. He sputters. "I – what?"

Beckett grins, squeezing his arm. "Just wanted to make sure you were with me."

"Uh huh. Well for one, they would have a car seat. And two, I might buy one of those SUVs the feds have."

"Oh, one of the armored cars?" she teases, thumbing his bicep.

"If it comes to that."

"How can I argue with something so reasonable," she drawls, watching his lips lift finally. Now she's getting somewhere.

Castle chuckles, turning the music up once again. "Clearly it's best not to. But oh, hey. Maybe check online for something for him?"

One eyebrow arches. He is _not_ asking her to look for a car seat for their dog, is he? "Castle, did you hit your head when you had to hit the brakes?"

"What?"

"A car seat for Royal? Really?"

"What? No. A harness. Or something that clips into the seat belt. They have to make those."

"Ohh." She snickers into her hand. "Okay, yeah. Yeah, I can look for something like that."

Castle shakes his head, clucking his tongue. "I am aware he's not an actual child, Beckett."

"Uh huh. Jury's still out on that one, bud." She grins, patting his cheek. "Your account or mine?"

He lifts a shoulder. "Up to you, though I'm the one with Prime, so it might save on shipping if we use mine. Grab my phone?"

She's already reaching for hers, lifting it out of the cup holder and tapping in her PIN. "You say that like I don't know your password."

Her husband's eyes dart to hers. "You do?"

"Mmm, your mom's first show, our anniversary and Alexis's birthday?"

"How did you…?" he trails off, looking impressed. "I _just_ changed it after Christmas. I barely remember it most days."

"Well," she hums, popping her lips. "Then it's a good thing I know it, isn't it?"

Castle beams, relaxing in his seat once more as they finally make it to the Williamsburg Bridge.

* * *

Kate wakes the next morning to a thud. Just seconds later, she hears the low, easy rumble of her husband's laughter and the crazy skitter of their dog's nails on the hardwood. A moment later, the noises happen again, closer to her bedroom door this time.

She may be foggy from the late night and the pull of deep sleep, but she knows what the pattern means without having to think too hard.

They're playing ball in the house. Again.

Last week they'd broken her blue porcelain vase. Her favorite vase. As cute as they both are, after that she'd considered giving them both to Alexis to take to college with her.

Curling around her husband's empty pillow, she takes the opportunity to drift for a little longer. It's nice having nothing pressing to do and nowhere to be. It takes getting used to, especially given how hectic their lives are, but it's really damn nice.

Of course, the only thing that could make it better would be Castle. Or coffee. Maybe both, it's a toss-up.

A few minutes later, she hears Royal skid, and winces at the subsequent clatter of _something_ hitting the floor. And just like that, the game between man-child and – _fine_ – fur-child is over.

At least nothing shattered.

She hears her husband pick up whatever it is that fell, righting everything with the efficiency of a man covering his tracks.

"Hey, hey, no harm done, buddy. As long as you're okay, too," he fusses, and Kate just knows he's checking the dog for bumps and bruises the way he would a two-legged playmate.

One with his bright eyes and her dark hair. One with a shy smile and the adorable ability to wrap everyone around their little finger if they so please.

Groaning, she presses her face into the pillow. They haven't even been married for six months; she needs to stop. They're not ready – _she's_ nowhere near ready – but still the image persists.

"Yeah, you're okay, Royal. Now, let's go get Mommy her coffee and try to convince her to come to the beach with us."

It takes two cups of coffee and nearly an hour to draw her out from under the covers, but eventually they succeed. Castle even prepares her a to-go cup while she pulls on a pair of thick leggings and one of his cozy sweaters. Her husband will huff when he sees it, claim he was going to wear it to dinner, but he won't take it away from her.

At least not until he's stripping it from her body to get to her skin.

Mmm, later. There's time for that later.

They keep Royal on the leash at first, not wanting to upset the other beach goers, however few there may be. The dog doesn't seem to mind; he meanders across the soft sand and through a small tidal pool, sniffing new things and returning when Castle gives the lead a little tug. It's a good system, at least until Royal makes an abrupt right turn, veering back to inspect part of the dunes, tossing both humans off-balance.

"You think we can let him off?" Rick puffs, steadying her with a broad hand before righting himself. "Looks like everyone else who was out here has gone in."

He's right. The golden light of the sun has become more of a drab gray, driving the others off the beach and back into their homes. Save for a few figures off in the distance, they're alone.

"Yeah. Yeah, go ahead. Let him roam. He'll come back; he knows who feeds him." She can't help but curl into Castle a bit more, allowing her lips to turn up.

Her husband hums in assent, calling Royal back to them. The dog runs back, looking entirely too pleased to hear his name.

Castle bends at the waist, running his hands over Royal's head.

"Okay, Royal, I'm gonna let you off. But remember the deal – no grabbing live things, and if you find buried treasure, we're splitting the profits fifty-fifty."

He's met with a tilted head and a blank stare. Beckett laughs, unclipping the leash from Royal's collar before Castle can pout about being misunderstood.

"Go on, go play."

The dog tears off, zigzagging between the soft sand and the harder, compacted sand close to the water. Castle straightens, tracking Royal for a few seconds before offering her his arm.

"Walk with me?"

She takes him up on that, slipping her arm through his and stepping close enough to rest her cheek on his shoulder. His lips brush her forehead, warm against her skin.

Her breath catches in her chest; sometimes it's still hard to believe that she has him, has this. A husband, a house he calls theirs, even a dog. Even a freaking dog.

Castle nuzzles her temple, somehow knowing she's getting deep.

"Walk, Kate. Let's just walk."

"What are we going to do if he swims?" she asks after they've made their way down the beach and turned around. Royal's still within sight, running after a group of seagulls. Each time he nears, the birds take flight, only to land a little further up the beach and start the entire process over again.

"What?" Castle's head lifts from his study of the sand. They've been collecting shells the entire walk and he's made it his mission to find the perfect one before they go inside to warm up.

"Royal. He keeps getting closer to the water. What are we going to do if he just jumps in?"

"Oh. Well, I think he can swim. Can't most dogs? Hence why they call it the doggy paddle?"

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't dignify that with a response. "It's mid-March, Castle; he'll freeze. And he'll smell like a wet dog all day long. Do you want wet dog smell on your sheets?"

"…fair point. But we can always give him a bath, right?"

Kate smirks, lifting onto her toes and pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. "Uh huh. Thanks for volunteering. Knew I could count on you."

He gapes. "Wait, what? No, no, no. That wasn't me volunteering, Beckett. I said _we_. As in both of us."

Pulling away, she saunters ahead, letting her hips sway a little bit with each step. He's watching, she knows he is. "Mmm, no. I think I heard you agreeing to give him the bath if he ends up in the water. And, oh, if it gets delivered today, you can put the seat belt harness on him to see if it works. Thanks, lover."

It's not even a surprise when strong arms band around her waist, pulling her back to his chest.

"That was not what I meant, and you know it," he growls, burrowing his face beneath her windswept hair. His nose is cold, but his breath comes in warm puffs, and a shiver wracks her shoulders at the combination. His arms tighten, keeping her against him.

Like she's keen to go anywhere else.

"Sounded like it to me," she taunts, filling her lungs with a breath of sea air.

"Lies," he mutters, but it lacks the conviction of the first few denials. He knows he's lost this battle, and he loves it. His happiness radiates from every pore.

"Don't worry, Castle," she promises, spinning in his hold to loop her arms around his neck and take a kiss from his smiling mouth. "I'll make it worth your while."

She steals his reply with another kiss, teasing her tongue along his lip until he opens to her, until he palms her hip and surges against her.

Want flares through her, white-hot, dizzying.

"Walk over?" she asks, scratching the back of his head with gentle fingers. They need to get inside, and they need to get inside soon.

His head bobs under her hand. "Walk ov-ah! Cold! Cold!"

Castle jerks back, looking between them for the source of the interruption. Beckett follows his gaze, pulling her lip between her teeth to hide her amusement.

Royal looks up, oblivious to the fact that he crashed their moment.

He's also soaking wet.

"Royal," Rick whines, tugging the wet patches of his pants away from his legs. "You're worse than Ryan sometimes, you know that, pal?"

Their dog's tail fans against the sand. Yeah, he doesn't give a damn; he's just happy to be here.

"Yeah, you're proud of yourself."

"And you're on bath duty, Daddy," she singsongs, watching her husband's face transform into something wondrous. All over a single word.

"I, ah, yeah. Yeah I am." He tugs the leash from his back pocket, clipping it to Royal's collar. The golden retriever doesn't budge, looking up at them with his large, soulful eyes.

Leaning over, Kate avoids the mass of wet hair to stroke his ears. His head lolls into her hand, eyes slipping shut on a contented sigh.

"Don't you want to go inside and get warm?" she tries, feeling the wind pick up. Now that she and Castle aren't strolling arm in arm, she's a little cold.

He flops onto his side, presenting his belly for a rub. Of course he's unconcerned with the chill in the air.

"Oh, now you're just being stubborn. Come on, Royal. There's a treat in it for you," she adds, laughing as he springs up from the sand. "Good boy. Okay, crazy, let's go inside."

Instead of starting toward the house, Royal takes the opportunity to shake the excess water from his body. Right onto her.

Castle throws his head back, losing any speck of composure as she gapes.

"He – I'm drenched, Castle." He is, too, but his pants were already wet. They're also thicker than her leggings.

Finally, her husband sucks in a deep breath and straightens. She wants to be annoyed at him for laughing, but his eyes are just too bright, too vibrant and joyous to hold onto her ire.

His thumb slips over her cheek, wiping away ocean water and wet sand. The touch is so tender – always so tender – she has to suck in a breath to steady herself.

"I have a suggestion," he says, clearing laughter from his throat. "Why don't we share bath duty for this guy, and then we can share a bath of our own."

"Intriguing proposition," she drawls, allowing her eyes to drift down his chest and back up. "Will there be wine?"

Castle's hand curls around the back of her neck, drawing her in and offering her the warmth of his mouth, the intoxicating pull of his kiss. Better than any vintage.

She sways, but her husband doesn't let her fall over the dog.

"I had a case of the kind you like shipped here last week," he husks, releasing her lips. "Preparation, Beckett."

"Well, in that case," she pauses, waiting for him to appreciate her pun. He does, pressing his smile to the corner of her mouth. "Then I think the last one inside has to pour!"

With that, she strips him of Royal's leash and the two of them take off through the sand.


End file.
